Harry Potter and the Deal with the Gods
by Faeyte McDowell
Summary: Magic took everything from him. Thus, when Hadrian Potter rejects attending Hogwarts, and receiving formal magical education, in favor of a simple life with his relatives the Dursleys; his mundane life is shaken to its core by a last-ditch effort to locate 'Harry Potter'. However, no formal magical training does not equate to no proficiency. (AU)
1. A Night to Forget

Hadrian Potter and

A Deal with the Gods

So, one 'trigger' warning for the whole book. This story will contain elements of dark and light stories. There will be references to drug abuse, consensual and non-consensual sex, birthday parties, racism, murder/character death, Unicorns, and more (Not all at once).

If you notice plot ideas, or clichés familiar with other stories, the answer is yes. They probably came from them. I will attempt to list all the authors and stories I drew from so that it's clear that I didn't come up with it. If you read more than a paragraph of this story chances are something is from another writer's work. Either used with permission, or not due to not remembering where it comes from. I'd don't want to give to much away. But several clichés included will be, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has a sibling/Sister, and significant AU, OOC, and OC usage. I am against bashing of a character regardless of my personal feelings of said character. That said, as this is an AU many characters will be completely OOC at all times and thus bashing of THAT character may seem to happen.

A guide to this series is the concept of the world being seen through the protagonist's eyes. It'll have elements of Noir in that, if the 'main' character doesn't hear/see/witness something happen, he is unaware of it. Nothing bothers be more in stories than those scenes where some character remembers something they weren't there for. Exposition hammer for the readers. A character slays someone and walks away, but the reader notices the believed vanquished person twitch with life. Leading the readers to know to look for said characters involvement later on in the story. Marco Bodt Attack on Titan. Expect that.

I shall be using descriptive tools more often than factual non/verb for key moments. There is a difference between someone being shot, and Character A was standing at an angle to perceive character B was shot. Life isn't black and white (pardon the phrasing) and we often do not and never will know what motivates the actions of others.

Also, I do not own Harry Potter and the world created by someone else. Nor do I own any rights to…'Other' Stories I don't wish to name just yet to keep the surprises coming. Nor would I wish to, as to be honest I do not like the Harry Potter universe.

Three stories who Greatly if not entirely brought this concept to life were; Muggle-Raised Champion by Stargon1, Have Chrome, Will Travel by Deadlandmarshal, and Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Less Wrong. These are amazing stories that take, what I feel is, unique looks at an incomplete world. And made them so much better.

 **Summary** : Magic took everything from him. Thus, when Hadrian Potter rejects attending Hogwarts, and receiving formal magical education, in favor of a simple life with his relatives the Dursleys; his mundane life is shaken to its core by a last-ditch effort to locate 'Harry Potter'. However, no formal magical training does not equate to no proficiency. (AU)

Notes: Alternate Universe. Slight Crossover(s).

 **Chapter One: A Night to Forget**

October 31st 1991

Lost in the realm of dreams is the right where children should be when the moon is high in the night. A thrum of power woken Hadrian with a start. He rubbed his tired eyes and briefly did not recognize his surroundings. This wasn't his nursery of his parents' house. This was smaller. He liked his old room, he liked the marks on the wall that told his how tall he was growing, and the secret spot on the wall he and his sister drew on.

This had all changed when Mr. Dumbledore came over one day. He told his parents it was a good idea to leave the nice house, Address Potter Manor by floo, and move into this small house away from his uncles. Even if it wasn't supposed to be for long, one week was just far too long.

Another soft whimper sounded from his sister's crib. Her crib sat across the room from his closer to the door, while his sat towards the window. She whimpered lightly in her sleep, to quiet to have woken him yet here he is awake. It was then he felt it again. A pressure all around like trying to stand to quickly. His sister whimpered again, prompting him to make a grownup decision. He knew he was supposed to stay in bed, but this was more important. Reaching over the crib bars he unlatched the gate, allowing him to slide it to the floor. When his Uncle Moony taught him how to do this, he made Hadrian promise it was only used for important things. Things like looking after his sister.

As he crossed the bedroom and passed in front of the window, he noticed a special cloud blocking out some of the moon light. A kind of greenish-black head with no hair, and a worm on it.

He was overly confident that it was a bald-headed man, with a worm hat. Having played the cloud naming game for a number of years with Trillium, he was a master. His sister though always saw the strangest of things. If he saw a fish, she saw a lion. If he saw a book, she saw a broom. It led to many arguments…or rather debates. Good siblings don't argue. Though try telling that to Uncle Padfoot. His Uncle Padfoot, and his brother Uncle Regulus never seemed to not argue. Though that was how older siblings acted.

Hadrian couldn't know about that, as he wasn't an older brother. Or a younger brother. When he and Trillium asked their parents one birthday, his parents explained that they didn't know. And after many assurances that both his parents were there at the hospital; the explained that for reasons even they didn't know no one seemed to remember which was born first, the children let it go. Who cares who is older. It's not like it'll ever matter, right?

Approaching her pink crib, he peaked in to see his sister sleeping fitfully. He gave her a gentle nudge in an attempt to wake her.

"Trill."

"Triiiiilll"

"Trillium Elizbeth Potter."

She merely tossed in her bed, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Having failed to wake her, in even his best grown up voice he placed a hand on her and noticed she was warmer than the blanket should let her be.

It was time to consult the parents. Bad dreams were not nice to have, and it was important to stop them. But getting sick was even worse. While quietly moving away from his sister, he felt another thrum weigh him down. Maybe he was getting sick too? Sister first, then medicine. After cracking the door open, everything seemed fine till he walked through the doorway. The sound of shouting and things breaking were almost deafening. He quickly shut the door before it could wake Trill.

"Lily!" He heard his father call out for his mother. The sound seeming to come from under the floor, the common room he thought. As he ran along the stairs he heard his mother's voice begin to scream, before being quickly silenced.

A dull thud was all he heard as he watched his father fall to the floor.

Young Hadrian Potter should have been long since asleep. He should have been nestled in his flying broom decorated covers, wrapped up comfortably in his self-warming blankets and dreaming of the things young children tend to dream of. He should not have seen his father's crumpled corpse on the floor, his eyes forever open in a haunting stare. What child, barely two years old can recognize the sight of death? Something was wrong here. Why would his father lay down in the middle of the floor? How does one sleep with their eyes open?

A child that young should not been watching his mother pinned to a wall by an unseen force as an unknown man pointed a familiar looking thing at her. He'd seen a wand before. Not that wand, his father's which was still locked in a vice like grip of his father's hand, he now noticed severed from his prone form. His mother's wand lay broken on the floor below her feet which hovered slightly off the floor. Hadrian knew what a wand was, his parents used them to do all kinds of wonderful things. Things like lifting toys from across the room, and making water appear from nowhere. And his father would use it to cheat at hide and go seek!

He once played with his father's wand without permission. He was scolded so badly. His father told him wands were fragile, and if they broke they couldn't be fixed. "A broken wand cannot make magic" he had said.

He was momentarily broken from his reverie by his mother's raised voice. Why was his mother shouting at him to run? Hadrian wasn't used to being yelled out, he was a good boy. Maybe not all the time, but enough to be called a good boy by his parents, and his uncles.

He saw a cruel smile was etched on the stranger's face as they mockingly crooned at his mother. "You cannot fight against Fate woman. This night has been foretold, did that Old Fool not tell you so?"

His mother writhed against the wall, a mixture of fear and seething hatred in her eyes as she glared down her attacker.

"You'll not…take….my children." Her normally warm joyful voice was sharper, meaner. Even as she struggled for breath she would fight with everything she had.

"It is of little consequence. Accept my gift to you, a swift death. Be at peace."

With an exaggerated motion of the wand his mother dropped to the floor, but she was prepared. With speed of motions belying her injuries, notable by the growing red dampness seeping through her white flimsy nightgown, she tumbled to the side evading the most beautiful green light he'd ever seen. With a thrust of her open hand, a short gale of harsh wind blew towards the momentarily stunned, black robed man.

Before young Hadrian could comprehend the next motions, his mother was scooping him into her arms. Without a turn back for his father, his mother carried him with hurried motions towards the stairs. Taking them two at a time she made it to the sixth before she was violently yanked backwards. Although she was summoned backwards, he however was not.

Slipping from his mother's grip his head hit the corner of a stair violently adding a large gash to his forehead to the laundry list of bruises he'd have to have kissed better. Tears pricked at his eyes as his head swam in pain. His limited, staying up past bed time, focus swaying as he fell back onto his rump.

With a snarl Voldemort shouted an unintelligible word. What happened next could feature in Hadrian's nightmares for years to come.

It is a basic human instinct to recognize someone in physical pain. Whether it be grimaces of pain, a shudder of breath or even a world-shattering cry. And cry he did. The fire seemed to take on a life of its own as it emerged from the wand. A semi-sentient serpent of pure flame slithering along the floor and with nary a taunting pause before lunging onto its trembling victim. As quick as the molten flames pierced her skin, it bathed her in living fire. Fire that burned so hot sweat formed poured from the boy across the room. So bright it was, he wanted to shut his eyes and look away, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from his mother burning alive in front of him. With jagged movements she tried to crawl toward him as her body burnt up; failing to even make it the small distance between them. Lastly, he heard her soul rending screams before she fell into a silent, charred mass.

Tears leaked from his eyes, emotions flashed through him as he pondered the state of his mother. He approached her crumpled form slowly, oblivious to the stranger that caused…this. Thoughts only on his mother, and the thunderous silence coming from her.

He reached out a tiny hand toward her warped figure, her skin charred and hot to the touch. It lasted only a moment before it began to crumple to ash.

It may have been the smell. It may have been the sight. It may have been the sigh of repressed anger from the stranger that brought Hadrian back to the present. The man took a moment to compose himself, adjust his robes and harden his gaze.

"I did not wish to do that child. Even for a 'Mudblood' she had so much potential. Truly a waste. Only you children need to have died tonight. A sacrifice for the betterment of our world. Even the Old Fool could attest to this." The stranger sighed again, almost disappointed.

"But, that is life. How fortunate for you that you need not live in fear, or pain of loss. Although I intended it to be you and your sister, I would have granted you solace by joining them in the hereafter." Hadrian looked up from the dust that was his mother toward the stranger. The brown polished length of wood that caused his mother to be gone— no to die.

Hadrian cast a tear-filled glance to the stairs where his younger sister began to cry. His moment of worry interrupted by the scary, strange man.

"I Lord Voldemort, am benevolent. Join your parents, and be at peace. Worry not, your sister will follow soon after." With another unintelligible word that familiar beautiful green light began to shine again, before suddenly disappearing.

And remembering a broken wand does no magic; he knew what he had to do. With a wave of his hand the 'Lord Voldemort's' wand was bisected.

Lord Voldemort looked at his wand in horror, what was once his wand now was a severed half of a wand. The silence broken by the sound of the other half hitting the floor.

"You insolent welp! What have you done?!"

And the dam broke. He was mad.

His mother was gone, and his father could not help him. His sister cried in the back ground the spell which blocked out noise apparently gone. He wouldn't get hugs, or bed time stories, he wouldn't get the cupcakes his father would take him out to get. His parents always told him not to be mad. To be a good boy. He knew he could do magic, not just because his parents had magic, but because he had been mad before. He didn't really remember what it was, something Uncle Padfoot did to his favorite stuffed animal, or maybe when Uncle Moony took the last cupcake. But he remembered being mad. He remembered the room shaking, and things breaking. But mostly he remembered his mother's face as she held his sister protectively. When he saw her scared he forgot what made him so mad. He remembered the hug, and the soothing noises she made but not what caused it.

"A Big-brother must always look after his sister. Even if she doesn't want him to. It's his job for life." Her words were a gentle memory. A memory and nothing more.

Because they were gone, and this Lord Voldemort was the cause.

Voldemort's rage was quickly stimmed as he noted with keen interest the child's green eyes now shown with unbridled power. The power welled up within the boy, it wasn't anywhere near his, let alone a simple recent magical graduate. But still enough to give him pause.

The smell of ozone was starting to permeate the air.

"Interesting, how members of your whole family would fight to the last. Had you shown such potential before…but perhaps another time, another place." Pointing an open palm at the child he intoned the same incantation again. A ball of green power emerged from his palm before rocketing towards the child, only to splash harmlessly against him.

"Wha-?" Before he could even complete the thought the child was on him; his tiny, deceptively strong hands latching onto his head. With a half shout the Dark Lord was silenced and tumbled to the floor. The boy's voiceless scream of rage hushing the silent gasp of confusion.

They stayed locked together for moments, before exploding away from each other in a violent surge of magic. The boy hurdling into a nearby wall landing next to his father. Lord Voldemort though, may not have been so lucky. His body was rent apart with arcs of magical damage. As if unable to hold his own soul in his shell he seemed to disperse in a final explosion that brought half the roof off the house. Hadrian Potter saw a faded wraith ascending heavenward as his sister's crib slipped down the through the hole created in the ceiling.

The wraith passed through his sister seemingly without any visible effect, before gravity's hold became too much and pulled the crib plummeted to the first floor. With a staggered wave of his hand, Hadrian arrested his sister's fall allowing the crib to shatter on the floor. Hadrian's vision swam and darkened as his control wavered and she landed on a clear area of the floor between him and the wreckage of the now departed 'Lord Voldemort'. Before Trillium could begin crying, her brother attempted to use his magic to start her broken mobile. As if sensing her brother's efforts, a calmer girl supplemented his magic with her own. The soft tinkling of the mobile sounded throughout the terribly tranquil night accompanied with the amused giggled of an innocent child.

Magically drained, and having been woken up far past his bed time, Hadrian Potter lost the last grasps of his consciousness.

The last conscious thoughts of the young man, was wondering if he should have just stayed in bed.

 **AN: I will try not to put in Authors notes for the rest of this story. I'll address reviews and comments (Should I get any) on a separate entry. To keep the word-count accurate.**


	2. Prophecies Are Vague

**Chapter Two: Prophecies Are Vague**

A headache causing amount of raised voices accompanied by a rhythmic tapping roused the young boy as he felt his stomach lurch to and fro. An unfamiliar scent of something foul mixed with the aftershave of his uncle filtered into his senses. ' _Such a bad dream.'_ he thought to himself.

"-is clearly the rune of Sun! It means Lily was able to place the wards in time!" an aged voice rang out through the fog.

"The fact that Trillium was between Harry and the Dark Lord all but proves she is the child of prophecy!"

"There is more to this Albus, we don't know what happened. I need to take my godchild-". His uncle didn't sound happy.

He felt himself teeter again only to be smothered by the scent of baked cookies and confectionaries, it made him sick. Hadrian's eyes briefly opening catching vague glimpses of red hair; hair that didn't belong to his mother.

With a flash his eyes shot open in an attempt to separate dreams from reality. The first thing he noticed was the healthy bosom of Not his mother. With a twist and a grunt, he was able to extricate himself and get to the floor.

"Poppy can surely-" began Mr. Dumbledore; only for his Uncle to rebuttal. "Hang Poppy!"

The woman who had been holding him had turned to another child that appeared bothered by not being in his mother's care. Who could blame him?

"Honestly Ronald. Arthur, come take your son." Hadrian idly noticed a taller version of the boy come to take the child away.

Hadrian was able to get to the cold ground with an unceremonious thud, he glanced around noticing he was outside of his new home now. The weather still and cold, and reality of his dream sinking in as he noticed the half-destroyed roof of his house.

"-why Remus is not here is unimportant! You were the only person able to spill give any secrets! You were the Potter's- "Mr. Dumbledore's voice boomed with rage as he continued his tirade.

Another man in a large trench coat, his staff tapping on the ground every few moments. The man's eyes shifting constantly almost like a trapped animal.

Each time the staff touched the ground Hadrian felt as if someone was touching him lightly in the chest. A feeling much like drinking warm hot chocolate, only to fade quickly between pulses.

"Gentlemen! The first thing we need to do is clear out all these non-essential people. Weasley why are you even here? Take your wife and child and go home." The shout grabbed Hadrian's attention. He recognized Lady Bones as his father's boss, and boy she was not happy.

"We're here as concerned citizens as we have a right to be. We were friends of the Potters!" The red-haired woman, presumably a Weasley began to shout over her husband. She was clearly irate as Lady Bones if her flushed skin was an indicator.

Not being overly comfortable with strange people holding him, he moved to stand away from the woman only for another to scoop him up. He recognized the Auror Badge on the man's chest, but didn't recognize him. A glance to the man's dark-skinned face revealed nothing of his identity.

"Calm yourself child. You've been through an ordeal." The man's voice was calming, it was still after his bed time. Sleep sounded so good. Maybe he could just rest his eyes—

He was jarred awake as he was set down quickly, the black Auror's wand trained on his Uncle Padfoot. His Uncle's hands were empty, though one was balled into a fist, and Mr. Dumbledore was rubbing a rapidly swelling jaw.

"Lord Black! Now is not the time for these squabbles! You are relieved for the night, we will update you as soon as we know more. Go home to your wife!" Lady Bones although was upset, she looked out of place with a badly concealed smirk on her lips.

Staggering out of the hands of the unknown person he saw his father laying half covered in a sheet only meters away. With a choked cry he stumbled towards his downed father, drawing the attention of his Uncle Padfoot, and several unknown people.

He paid no attention to anyone as he fell to his knees next to his sleeping father. No, not sleeping.

"Hadrian no, don't look son." Padfoot pulled him into his arms, cradling the child and turning his face away from the fallen father.

"Peter…". He felt Padfoot's arms slide off of him, and saw a glazed look of fury in his eyes before he turned on the spot, not sparring a glance to his godson as he disappeared with a loud crack.

The feeling of anguish returned to Hadrian, the sense of overwhelming loss and emptiness. He closed his eyes to block at the bad thoughts only for them to shine behind his eyes, the man's simple smile as he killed his mother. How could his uncle leave him like his parents did?

Hadrian felt his anger bubble further, the air around him smelled richer, fuller, felt heavier. A sickly-bitter smell filled his nostrils as grass around him began to swirl in an unseen wind. It made him feel better, like being hugged by his mother, like being carried by his father, like hearing his uncle laugh and joke. He pulled more on this feeling, not noticing the small whirlwind he was summoning as tears spilled down his face.

A shrill cry pierced his anguish. His sister. His mother was gone, his father was gone, however this was unimportant he needed to reach his sister. He needed to calm down and—

And as if a bolt of lightning struck him it was over. Hadrian was inexplicably tired, panting heavily on his knees. Glancing through tired eyes to his side, he saw the frowning face of Mr. Dumbledore, a gnarly and oddly shapen wand touching his shoulder. His sister in the arms of the red-haired woman. Not his mother.

"How could you bind-!" a shrill voice started in.

"Obliviate-Maxima!"

With little more than a spare thought about bedtimes he slumped into oblivion again.

 _ **~Scene Change~**_

Hadrian wondered if he would ever be able to sleep. No matter what it was he woke again and again to this nightmare. He saw his sister, blissfully fast asleep next to him. After a careful adjustment of his blanket, he felt his headache return.

Reaching up to his forehead he noticed he had not yet had his wound fixed. He knew wands could do it. His Aunt Cissy had done it for him before. Back when he was allowed visit her and to play with his cousins.

Across the room he saw a what appeared to be a middle-aged woman standing idly next to an empty bed. He slipped off his strange, short bed onto the cold stone floor. It was thin he noticed he was still in just his pajamas. Pajamas which did not include shoes. What he did have was a sizeable amount of blood on his grimy shirt. Granted any amount of blood was sizeable to a child.

Moving towards her he noticed it to be Madam Pomphrey. His mother visited with Madam Pomphrey often talking about 'Muggle' sickness many times, though not as often recently.

"Excuse me? Madam Pomphrey? M-my head hurts, and it won't stop and I can't sleep and—" Hadrian noticed he hadn't the woman's attention. Her eyes were glazed slightly, and she was unresponsive.

Shaking her hand did nothing to wake her up, and for a moment he feared she would be dead like his father.

Voices came from the next room. Though looking around he could not tell where he was. The room was large, larger than his new house seemed to be. The walls were stone, same as the floor and ceiling. Beds littered the room, each next to a white sheet like a shower curtain.

"What of the prophecy Albus? The Longbottom's, and the Potters were both attacked! Frank and Alice were…and Poor Neville saw it all!" Professor McGonagall may have not been Hadrian and Trillium's favorite baby sitter, but when she turned into a cat she would chase them around the house.

"We've lost Lily and James as well, what good could come from this?!"

"Again, I assure you James is fine, I have Poppy looking after him as we speak." The voice of Mr. Dumbledore carried lightly through the cracked door. It led to some sort of smaller room inside of the bigger room.

There was a gruff chuckle "Albus, I've seen many a dead man in my days. I assure you, that Potter is dead."

"Alastor, magic is a very complicated thing. Prophecy even more. James Potter is alive for the moment, although heavily wounded. I surmise he may never return to the Auror forces." A tired sigh followed.

"Yea…sure thing. So, what of the children? Probably not the Longbottom boy as Voldemort sh- It's just a name ya skirts! Besides he was probably killed when he attacked the Potters."

"From what we saw of the house, I have no doubt that Lily was able to place her wards around the children. However, it is a fact that Trillium Potter is the child of prophecy. It was young Harry that was wounded, while Trillium was not. It was she who was found using magic unaided in the center of the house. A position that would have placed her between her brother and the Dark Lord."

"Albus, how can you be so sure?"

"Because she is the elder of the two."

Hadrian found this most interesting. Someone how Mr. Dumbledore had solved the riddle of his birth. It warranted listening in a little more. Then he could get medicine.

"And how, do you come by that eh, Albus?" Moody barked with a laugh.

"I find myself wondering as well. Being Trillium's Godmother for one, I was there when they were born. No one knows which of the two left their mother first." Professor McGonagall made a valid point.

"Because my dear Minerva. Voldemort chose." That was not what Hadrian was expecting.

"Chose?" he mouthed along the other adult's question.

"In the prophecy, it states he will mark the child. And while young Harry has been injured." A point Hadrian would have liked to be remedied sooner rather than later.

"Young Trillium was not injured. In the slightest. Around her was death and destruction. But amongst it all, she sat innocent and unmarked. That itself ~is~ the mark. The Dark Lord's taint could not reach her. He must have cast a spell against her. Her mother's protections reacted causing the spell to be reflected and striking the Dark Lord himself." This drew out a round of gasps from the other adults.

' _That isn't what happened at all. You weren't even there!'_ Hadrian was in fact the only living person privy to what transpired that night.

"Knowing his intention and having battled the Dark Lord- "

"Voldemort." Amended Moody to the shock of other present.

Mr. Dumbledore appeared to not have noticed the correction and continue talking.

"-and bested him often enough. I believe he used the Killing curse, and thus was killed by his own spell."

"Minerva would you kindly go to my office, and fetch the package on my desk. I'm afraid I'll need it to set the wards for Trillium and these old bones do not agree with the stairs."

"Of course, Albus." Without another word Professor McGonagall turned to leave through the door Hadrian was listening through.

Without reason, Hadrian threw himself behind the door as it opened, obscuring him from her vision.

"Stupefy!" a woman called out and then a sudden flash of red hit the woman from behind. Her fall stilled just before impact with the floor and her seemingly lifeless body levitated back into the room.

"Was that necessary Molly?" The woman merely harrumph's in response.

"It was only a stunner. And I was sure you would catch her. Besides it would only be a bump on the head and we're in a hospital."

"We do what we must because we must. Not for petty grudges. And don't even think that was repressed anger from Bones riling you up."

"Very well, now on to business. We'll need to make sure Trillium is looked after. Minerva is too close to the girl and will coddle her. Molly you have been chosen to raise the Child of Prophecy as your own God-Daughter. I am sorry Minerva but it truly is for the greater good."

Hadrian was confused. Professor McGonagall was Trill's God-mother, just as Sirius was her God-father. The thought of Sirius shot a pang through Hadrian. He shook his head of the thoughts. He didn't need his Uncle Padfoot. He still had his Uncle Regulus, that would show him!

"What of the boy?"

"Alastor, with Frank indisposed by the hand of Bellatrix the Longbottom Wizengamot seat will need fall to his Heir. Seeing as his son is so young I am sure Augusta will take the seat herself. Worse yet Griselda will back her fully to do so."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"The boy will need guidance, a strong male role model—"

"I'll not be changing no nappies Albus!" Moody roared clearly not happy with the idea.

"Nothing of the sort, just a guiding hand as it were."

"What of Hadrian? I figure you'll want a two-fer"

"On the contrary I think it would be best if young harry lives apart from this. We'll keep an eye on him, should anything develop out of this. With his sister proving to be the Child of Prophecy it'll be best if he fades into obscurity."

Hadrian was not liking the sounds of this. Did they want to split him and his sister apart? Well it wouldn't be that easy!

"And how do you plan to do that? Need me to…" Moody's voice trailed off before 'Molly' cut in.

"Oh heavens no. We don't need to out right kill the lad, do we Albus?"

"No no Molly, Nothing of the sort. Young Harry has his muggle relatives, I believe they live near enough to London. We shall send him to live with them. Close enough to look after, far enough away to not distract Trillium. Should we have made an error, we can simply retrieve him."

"It's done. Her memory of her status as a God-Mother is gone, as well as this meeting. She'll remember having heard of the attacks, and dutifully obeyed your orders, staying with Poppy to hold down the fort."

"Excellent Molly. We must not loose any time at all. We'll do a memory sweep of the children, just to be sure. Best to remove all traces of each other. For their own protection, of course."

"When you finish with the children, you may return home. Alastor and myself will go and speak to Severus. Goodnight Moly."

"Goodnight Albus." She called out.

Hadrian heard a tap, a sound like wood upon stone before he felt a familiar warming sensation in his chest that quickly faded. He quickly scrambled away from the doorway back to bed. A familiar heavy-set woman exited through the open office door to the infirmary.

As she approached the bed, she muttered to herself. "Shouldn't take too long."

Her voice was sweet like too much sugar, and she smelt of it to. He looked away to clear his breath only to look back at the business end of the wand.

In a panic he delved back into the feeling he had when the 'Lord Voldemort' was trying to hurt him. But before he could make something happen he heard a single word and collapsed.

"Solmus."


	3. The Morning After

**Chapter Three: The Morning After**

With a weary groan Hadrian Potter woke, once again in an unfamiliar environment. The first thoughts he could muster as he wiped his bleary eyes was; he was cold, the ground was hard, prickly, and also cold. He found himself laying down on the doorstep of an unfamiliar house. Or more particularly an unfamiliar doormat.

 _'Welcome indeed.'_

Sitting up Hadrian observed his surroundings. Pulling off a flimsy blue blanket, his sisters, he looked himself over.

His sleep robes were dirty, spotted with dried dirt, and caked with some sort of dried red flaky stain on the chest. Still no shoes.

He found himself in an almost silly place. The doorstep a small, quaint house. He found it small because it was nowhere near as big as his real home, Potter Manor. Maybe if you cut up Potter Manor into its various wings then maybe. 'Quaint' Madam Longbottom would say, because while odd it was still interesting.

The door was thankfully larger than he was. Adorned with a single emblem '#4' hung proudly in what was certainly gold. This of course ruled out being captured by Goblins to be sold for his weight in pudding. Goblins would never decorate without some sort of threat.

 _'Seriously, what is with Goblins and selling children for pudding?'_

Shuffling around the prickly doormat he noticed an absence of shoes.

Although the sun was climbing higher into the sky the mornings frost hadn't yet melted to dew. A small sniffle escaped his nose before being chased away with a night-robe sleeve. The glinting of small baubles in the porch side flower garden caught his attention like a small multi-colored snitch.

 _'Alive?'_

With a held breath for luck and a cautious poke, the lack of a response was accepted with a contended sigh. Thoroughly assured of no impending garden gnome attacks he stepped back away from the small, quaint house.

Plain. It was just so plain. Mousey light brown brickwork, under a mousey dark-brown roof, with the same mousey dark-brown trim. The windows even had a mousey dark brown inlayed filigree. Where was the House colors? No Badger or Lion Pride? Nothing? It was admittedly exceptionally tidy though.

 _'Strangest house one could ever decorate'_

A familiar glimmer caught in the corner of his eye prompted a glance. The glance prompted a stare. The stare prompted confusion. For just next to this small, quaint, admittedly tidy house was the exact same small, quaint, admittedly tidy house. The exact same right down to the mousey brown colors!

 _'Who would copy a whole house like the one right next to it?'_

Shaking his head at the strangeness of it all he decided to compare it to the next house in the other way. Surely it would prove different.

 _'…why…?'_

Familiar would be an understatement. It was as if someone had simply magically copied a house and didn't bother to change a single thing. He span on his heel to look across the street. Looking ahead, he saw the exact same small, and not the least bit quaint house once more. Rows upon rows of small, quaint, and admittedly extremely tidy houses lined the entire street.

 _'Now I must be dreaming. I don't think I'm in Godric's Hollow anymore.'_

This was by far the oddest Magic Community he had ever visited. Even counting the one time he visited a house elf community and asked the house elves to pretend Trill was a princess. His mother was less than amused.

 _'House elves!'_

"Matty!" he called firmly. Matty may be his Father's personal elf but Matty would know what to do.

He stood and waited.

"Matty!" he called again.

He stood and waited longer.

"This is important, Matty! Becki!" It was unheard of for the Potter elves to completely not respond. Even if he was in trouble, the elves always responded just in case.

There was one other elf he knew would come, but he could get a lot of trouble for calling him. The head elf of the Black Family. Uncle Regulus' elf. He closed his eyes, cringed slightly at the incoming scolding he was sure to get, and called out.

"Kreacher!" He stood alone on a strange doorstep.

 _'No Kreacher Always came when called, something was very wrong here. But where exactly is here?'_

He instinctively pulled a flimsy blanket closer to himself. With a soft flutter a note dropped from the blanket and fell to his side. A simple unornamented envelope, with words 'Mr. & Mrs. Dursley' elegantly scrawled in the center. While he didn't recognize the words, he could at the very least recognize the phonics. His parents had done well to make sure he was on an early route to good education. Although Great Aunt Walburga would claim some credit. Okay all the credit.

He knew being just being a Wizard made him smarter than the 'average' non-magical people. Something about a gift from magic to the ancestors of Purebloods. At least that's how Uncle Regulus always explained it. Though his Mother explained it was only help, and still he would have to study hard. Why else had Muggles gone to the Moon and wizards hadn't? It was just another difference between magicals and muggles. He knew he would likely live longer than most Muggles even without eating his vegetables.

His Uncle Mooney was a great example. Even though Uncle Padfoot was a Pureblood, Uncle Mooney said he was smarter. Just don't tell Uncle Padfoot that.

 _'But Uncle Padfoot has the better jokes'_

A sharp pang ran through him. Where were his parents? Where were his uncles? Why did Uncle Padfoot leave him? Was Uncle Peter in trouble to? Where was his sister?

He knew his Uncle was an Auror, and he knew Aurors caught people who broke the law, and didn't eat vegetables but still ate their pudding. It only made sense that Uncle Padfoot had went after the man who-

Hadrian's face crinkled in confusion. Something felt different with his magic. There was no warmth, no feeling like being hugged. That familiar warm feeling his parents attributed to his magic was missing. Thus, he was still cold, and knackered.

The dark, rough timbre of Uncle Regulus' voice penetrated the growing confusion. A short lesson on magic, but one that he was forced to repeat often.

 _'Magic is all around you, but always in you. Think about what you want, and your magic will respond. Repeat it till you believe it.'_

Hadrian closed his eyes, and thought about being warmer. Thought about shoes he didn't have and a dryer blanket.

 _'Warm, warm, warm, I am warm. Repeat it till you believe it. I am warm, warm watm. I am…cold cold cold._ ' He had an involuntary shiver.

Nevertheless, he remained cold and shoeless. The bristly mat not helping his bum feel any better.

Being more than too chilly to sleep, he stood and began folding his blanket. The morning frost had done little to keep it dry. He looked up to the door and noticed the polished golden #4. He reached up to knock only to feel a solid slap at the back of his head.

 _'Merlin, why?'_

Rubbing the yet another owwie to add to the ever-growing list, he turned to face his attacker. He didn't recognize the young lad on the bike, but he spotted the newspapers he carried with him. Glancing down he saw one at his bare feet, presumably the aforementioned weapon came from this boy.

 _'Why didn't you just use an owl?'_

"Yous a'ight there ankle-biter? I din' mean it. 'Onest! I'm just late and I kipped to long and me mum woke me and it's been a day ev'n 'fore the suns up!" the paper boy began to prattle on as he peddled off.

 _'Definitely not Godric's Hollow. Am I in the…Muggle world? How?!'_

"I wouldn't pay the lad no mind there, Son. Just a young man trying his best, can't fault him non for that. But are you alright? That was quite the knock you took there."

Startled by the new voice that seemed to materialize out of thin air. Hadrian looked up to see another man carrying what appeared to be milk of all things toward him. He wore a simple white outfit and seemed to drive a horse drawn carriage. He looked normal enough, and had a cheery smile. A smile that would seem almost taunting if he knew about Hadrian's previous night.

 _'A muggle…just, just be polite maybe he can help.'_

"Uh no, I'm okay Mr.?"

"Ernie! Ernie's the name! Odd that you haven't 'eard-o-me. I'm known as the fastest milk cart driver in the west, I am!" The man finishes with an even prouder smile.

"Ah well I am- "

"Mr. Dursley the younger-younger I take it?" The man answered knowingly.

Hadrian could only respond with a tilted head and inquisitive stare.

 _'Am I a what?'_

"How did I know? Ah well that's no thing. This is the Dursley house, my hav-past-six call! And since you're not the younger, you must be the youngerer." Ernie finished with a matter of fact nod as he switched out the milk bottles.

 _'That's not…'_

"I see you have a bit of a knock on your head there. Everything alright there?" The kind man gestured lightly to Hadrian's forehead.

'I don't even know what-. Ow'

Having been remembered of his injury only made him remember it hurt. However, it seemed he was all out of tears and was just too knackered to cry.

 _'Just a muggle just be polite. Repeat it till you believe it. That worked so well earlier.'_

"My name is Hadrian, Sir." Hadrian answered with an offered handshake.

Ernie shook the small hand and walked back towards his cart. The greeting was quick. Barely a squeeze and yet served to remind hm of the missing warmth he was used to in his chest "Nice to meet you Hadrian." He called out. "This here is Trigger. Could say he pulls the fastest milk cart in the west!" Ernie introduced his horse with a boisterous laugh.

The cart was a very nice cart, as far as milk carts go, but in front of it was a black Pegasus-horse like creature! Not Kreature because he was an elf, and while he was a 'Creature' this horse thing was also a 'Creature' but not his 'Kreature'. Or rather Uncle Regulus' 'Kreature' that Hadrian often spent time with-

It like the ones from the Hercules cartoon! The majesty of the image was slightly off putting with the look of sheer boredom on its face. That lasted a moment till Trigger noticed he was being looked at, and strutted what one may say is a Heroic pose. That was followed by a wink.

 _'Did it just...?'_

Before he could inquire further the door opened behind him revealing the form of a rather rotund man.

"Mornin' to ya Ernie what's all this noise then?" His tone was jovial but carried a note of irritation of a man denied sleep.

"Ah nothing to it Mr. Dursley. I have you topped off for the week! Was just having a wee chat will young Hadrian here and Oh my me I'm off to be late! Have to stay ahead the Bakers man I do!" With a lunge, a yip, and a snap he was off down the road presumably to deliver more milk, yet skipping many a house left on the street.

 _'Did he not see the Pegasus?'_

Hadrian looked up at the large man. Large being a smaller term. He was, well it wasn't polite to mention what he was.

He shifted his weight from side to side as the man moved with robotic like motions and lifted the milk, only to re-notice the letter on doorstep.

"What, What's your name Boy?" Vernon asked with incredulous tenor as he gathered the letter along with the milk.

 _'Another muggle. Who would have guessed.'_

Hadrian, although knackered, cold, and with a re-emerging headache was not having the time of his admittedly short life, approached the man and offered a hand shake.

"I'm Hadrian Potter sir, and I'm afraid I'm a little lost."

"Potter you say?" he asked with trepidation, only to receive a small nod in answer.

Vernon's eyebrows twitched as he slowly backed into the house, letter and milk in hand.

"Pet, would you come here please..?"

The two stared idly at each other the silence broken by the soft morning melodies of songbirds.

 _'Not a single hoot. Not a single owl. Not a single magical house nearby. Muggles village it is.'_

He couldn't see much of the small, quaint house, not saying the man in the doorway was blocking his view or anything. He could see the door open to a- What was the word 'Modest?' Yes, a modest entryway with shoes and coats on what he could only imagine was the world's smallest mudroom. Stairs lined the right wall leading to a wrap around landing, much different than the small house he was in some time ago.

His reverie was broken by the sound house slippers shuffling along the floor.

Hadrian tilted his head to the side to peer past 'Mr. Dursley' as a rather slender woman stepped into view.

 _'That's not a Pet that's a woman! Can Muggles keep women as pets?'_

The woman was vaguely familiar. Though he was certain he'd never met her in person. Maybe from one of the nonmoving pictures in his mother's album. Who she was though wasn't exactly clear.

"-Honestly Dear we payed the paper boy just last week do not let him try to-" She stopped as she stared at the young boy, appearing to immediately recognize him from a single glance. The sound of her coin purse hitting the floor rousing her from reverie and replacing the confusion with anger.

Hadrian meant to step forward to help, it was a game he often played with the various elves. Who could pick up something fastest. Though he won often enough, he didn't believe Kreature when he said the other elves let him win.

Without preamble she intercepted and grabbed the boy pulling him roughly by the arm into the house. A furtive glance over his head to the other houses showing she hadn't been seen. The door slammed closed behind him a moment later.

 _'Found the hag!'_

She glanced to the boy's head noting the angry looking wound upon his head. Strangely the wound had yet to be treated.

"Pet, please keep calm. Remember your condition."

"Dear fetch the medical, I have to clean this to see if he'll need a jab. Where are your parents? I'll not have them bringing any of their troubles into my house!" Her tone was angry, but her voice quiet as if trying to not wake someone.

 _'Okay not a Hag just-'_

But at the question of his parents startled him. His eyes began to water as she looked away toward her husband.

He was sure he'd thought of his parents since he woke and felt nothing worth mentioning. But at this strange woman asking a single question sadness welled up inside him.

"Vernon, fetch the kit. Vernon?" Her pause at the man's inaction prompted Hadrian to look over to 'Vernon'.

The bulky man stood still in the same spot having the letter opened in his hand. He had not yet left to fetch this 'kit'. Hopefully a potions kit because a little pain-relieving potion would be so welcome right now.

'Maybe even a dreamless sleep potion, and a warming charm, and breakfast, maybe not in that order but I could- '

"Pet. It seems there has been…oh bother." Vernon began slowly with a weighty sigh. While his wife never got on with her sister, hearing grim news of family could bring even the most fragile of bonds to bare.

"Pet maybe its best you have a seat-" Mr. Dursley started as she crossed the small entryway snatched the letter from his hands skimming it quickly.

Her eyes widened slightly before her breath hitched her arms falling limp at her sides.

"Boy…what happened last night?" Vernon asked with a glance a small grimace at the clock. Hadrian didn't bother to take in the man's attire as the previous night's event came back again.

"Someone, came to our house and h-he-he" Any control Hadrian had mustered was shot as the emotional dam broke once again. The world seemed to spin as he struggled to stand choking back tears that couldn't come as he saw felt phantom heat wash over him. His mother's form barely a meter away, a pillar of ash crumbling before him and the face of the monster who caused it all. He felt a single poke on his shoulder and felt like someone was blowing him out like a candle.

"Oh, Lily no!" A sharp cry followed as Mrs. Petunia 'Pet' Dursley fell to her knees as well. With speed belying his dimensions the large man had his wife in his arms as she wept uncontrollably into his wide chest.

Her cry snapped whatever spell taking over and Hadrian regained his focus back onto the muggles. Hadrian did his best to contain his grief even though his eyes stayed dry regardless of his feelings. He knew he should be crying, but he almost didn't even want to.

"Dad, is Mum alright?" A small voice alerted him to the presence of someone else, another child about his age, though a little older, came in rubbing sleep from his eyes. The boy clearly took after his father, more weight one would expect on a younger child.

"No. Dudley ring Hospital! Tell 'em your mum's having another fit!" Dudley as he would be named snapped fully awake ran out of the room as if it was a programed response.

Looking back at the woman, she shook in the arms of Vernon as he tried to hold her. His grip around her was loose, but solid enough to keep her from falling to the floor. All the while he whispered things too quiet to be heard to the woman.

Hadrian looked around to see if someone had cursed her.

 _'It's just like the unforgivable Uncle Regulus used. I don't like this.'_

Just as suddenly as it began, after several moments it all together stopped. It was truly the strangest thing Hadrian had ever seen. The man who looked like he could crush a broom trying to sit on it, seemed to have the gentlest touch. He gently brushes his fingers through her hair as he murmured quietly to his wife.

"Dad, their sending a bus round!" the other child called out from another room. "When did she have her last meds?"

"Pet? Pet did you take this morning's pills yet?" he asked softly, prompting her to shake her head.

"Not yet, and she hasn't any breakfast!" he called back.

Hadrian did his best to stay out of the way, minutes ticked by as he watched this woman's shallow breathing form. She seemed so, weak. Like spending the whole day playing outside. Or worse, just like the torture curse. His eyelids began to droop closed once again, only for sleep to be denied once again.

(OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO) (OvO)

Suddenly off in the distance a noise unlike he had heard before approached them. It sounded like someone yelling 'nee-noo nee-noo' over and over as loud as they could. Louder and louder and all at once it stopped. Hadrian noticed a blue light blinking on a brightly colored car. Perhaps the bus the other boy had mentioned but nothing like the Knight Bus he'd seen before.

Dudley rushed back through the room, his focus clearly on the newcomer standing in front of the door. With comical ease the boy firmly guided Hadrian out of the doorway to sit on the stairs before returning to open the door.

As he opened the door several men dressed in the oddest of clothes entered, wheeling in a bed of all things. Hadrian noticed they had badges on their strange clothes.

'Muggle Aurors? Why would they call for Aurors? She needs to go to St. Mungos the nutters' A twinge of pain. 'Both of us.'

They began rapidly asking questions to both Mr. and Mrs. Dursley as they helped the woman onto the strange bed with wheels on it. As one pulled out a strange contraption and wrapped it around her arm, he noticed Hadrian sitting quietly to the side.

"Jerry, take a glance yea?"

The muggle Auror 'Jerry' came and knelt in front of Hadrian prompting his full attention.

"Hey they lad, seems you got a bit of a knock on your head. Do you wanna tell me about it?" the man asked Hadrian but sent an odd look toward Mr. Vernon.

"I fell on the stairs." Hadrian responded tiredly.

 _'Yes finally, muggle or not!'_

"Fell down the stairs did you now? This seems like it happened some time ago." He said it in a strange way, like when his father would ask a question but already knew the answer. He gave Mr. Vernon a sideways glance as he asked. The muggle Auror did not look happy.

"I haven't the faintest about the boy. He is my nephew and was dropped off injured this morning without a word or a by your leave. Petunia was just looking him over before her fit. I'll be taking him to Hospital in my car behind you." Mr. Vernon did not sound happy.

The muggle Auror nodded and ruffled Hadrian's already messy hair. "We'll get you looked at soon as you reach Hospital."

 _'So close.'_

Before he could ask questions, Dudley whom somehow managed to get up the stairs and back without Hadrian noticing him, offered a tad to large coat and pair of house slippers. Dudley guided him further out of the way before quietly and quickly helping him put on his shoes. He turned around in time to watch the muggle Aurors wheel Mrs. Dursley out the front door, and toward the back of the bus.

Dudley, his new care taker it would seem, guided him out the house before shutting and for the strangest of reasons pressed a small bit of metal into another bit of metal and turned it. Satisfied with a strange 'click' the older boy guided Hadrian across the lawn keeping mind to pay close attention to the neighbors who now peered out windows, or opened doors to listen in.

 _'Maybe I could sneak away and look for someone…else'_

Vernon called Dudley over, but as if reading Hadrian's mind, he gave the younger boy a hard stare. "Wait here, and don't bother anybody. Don't move unless one of the Medics tells you to do so. Understood?"

 _'Uhhh'_

With a sharp nod and not waiting for a response he walked off to join his Father.

Mr. Vernon pulled Dudley close to hand him a parchment and order him to go with the bus. Stating he would follow with the Boy, presumably Hadrian, in a car.

Without waiting Vernon ordered Hadrian into the back-bench seat of an odd-looking car. Odd for him as he had only seen his mother's once before not counting the flashy-light bus. And it looked almost nothing like either. Vernon's inattention caught the eye of a muggle Auror, or Medic as it were, who reminded him to buckle Hadrian in.

This proved disastrous as Hadrian had never once been 'buckled in'. With squirming, and cursing, and snapping, and unsnapping, and further cursing; Vernon was able to 'buckle' Hadrian into the odd contraption.

As the strange flashing light bus pulled away Hadrian felt a lurch backward as the car he was in roared to life.

"Damn clutch! Not today baby, please not today! Daddy needs you!" Mr. Vernon said softly as if trying to placate the car, lightly patting part of it as if it were alive. The sudden thought of being in a larger living creature worried him.

Not that there is anything wrong with Creatures, just he rather not be breakfast one just yet. He still had much to live for! The car lurched once more, though considerably more smoothly as it backed away from the small, quaint house turning all the while. Seeing the flashy light bus ahead of him Hadrian pieced together that they meant to follow it.

 _'That and he said we would be following it.'_

Hadrian Potter was not unaccustomed to speed. He's road a full-size broom once with his Uncle Moony! But being tied down to a, not wooden, not metal wide…chair? While watching the muggle world fly by was a new experience, and one he was thankful for to take his mind away from darker thoughts.

Perhaps in the back of this muggle car he would finally get a night's rest. Unlikely as the shafts of sunlight streaked into the car with every gap in shadows.


End file.
